Thursday, April 23, 2009

Rusty called me yesterday when he was at Wal Mart with Ashlyn. This was our conversation:

Rusty: I want to buy Ashlyn a fish.

Me: No.

Rusty: It's only $5 for the entire kit!

Me: Who will clean the cage?

Rusty: It won't live long enough to have to clean the cage.

Me: You promise?

Rusty: Yeah.

Me: Just a week?

Rusty: Yeah.

Look at where Rusty put it! I would've moved it myself, but let's be honest, I really really really want it to die.

I'm taking bets on how it will go and how long it will live. A crayon...four days? Dumped out in one of Ashlyn's fits of rage in just under three days? Do you think that I'll secretly flush it down the toilet when it doesn't die in that first week? You pick.

Ours lived for one day. I put it in a big bowl of water because we "won" it as the state fair and I didn't have a real fish bowl. It jumped out of the bowl sometime in the night onto the kitchen floor and I went in at 3 am to get a drink and had the pleasure of squishing it under my barefoot while walking in the dark. NEVER. AGAIN.

one of the idioms we taught our students this week was "kick the bucket". i explained that you'd never say this to someone whose spouse or child just died, but more appropriately, when someone's fish died. i hadn't read your blog yet, but if this is an omen, i'd say the fish is almost a gonner, and when he goes, let me say, "i'm happy for you but sorry for ashlyn that her fish kicked the bucket."